


The Protection of Lyra Sigynsdottir

by ChrysosArgentum



Series: Loki and Sigyn [3]
Category: Norse Religion & Lore, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom, Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Age of Ultron Themes, Alternate Universe - Norse Religion & Lore, Avengers Family, Avengers Tower, Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Spoilers, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Canon Divergence - Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Captain America: The Winter Soldier Spoilers, Captain America:The Winter Soldier Themes, Casually screwing with Comic Themes, Casually screwing with Norse Religion, Domestic Avengers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Evil Odin (Marvel), F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Good Loki, Humor, Hydra (Marvel), Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Loki Angst, Loki Does What He Wants, Loki Feels, Loki Needs a Hug, Loki Posing as Odin, Loki's Kids, Loki's resistance, Loki-centric, Odin the Tyrant, Odin's Bad Parenting, Post-Avengers (2012), Post-Thor (2011), Post-Thor: The Dark World, References to Norse Religion & Lore, Unplanned Pregnancy, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-11-30 14:51:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11465871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChrysosArgentum/pseuds/ChrysosArgentum
Summary: Sequel to The Enlightening of Thor Odinson.The Avengers find themselves stretched thin between dealing with the mysterious SHIELD leaks, hunting down the sceptre and protecting the precious baby they've all come to care for.With Alexander Pierce moving plans forward and the Mad Titan threatening Earth again is there any hope for even this protected child of Loki to get a better fate than her siblings?The current King of Asgard has sworn to make it so.Post T:TDW, CA:TWS AU, AOU AU.Please read and review.





	1. Freyr: The Slippery Fish

**Author's Note:**

> Here’s chapter one of the Sequel to The Enlightening of Thor Odinson! Sorry for the delay, things have been very busy recently, but I should be keeping with fairly regular updates wherever possible. I have put the first chapter of the prequel up, so have a look at that- The Tale of Loki and Sigyn.  
> Let me know what you think!

 

_The Throne of Thanos_

_The 3712 Year of Odin’s Rule_

_(Early 2014)_

 

 

“The Mortal has agreed to the terms, my lord.” The Other stood before the Titan, who was seated upon his throne. He was turned away, looking out into the vastness of space. The immortal being had been about to send The Other away to deal with Ronan, but had changed his plans when the bounty hunter had been returned to negotiate. 

 

Thanos did not negotiate. He took what he wanted and slaughtered any in his path, but for now he would allow the human to believe he had a deal - until the sceptre and the girl were in Thanos grasp. Then all of the planet would be a great sacrifice for his Mistress, as punishment for defying his wishes when the Asgardian had failed them.

 

The Titan was admittedly surprised when the bounty hunter had dared to return. When the time since The Other had tasked the being with hunting down the girl had stretched out, and it was clear the coward had failed, Thanos was sure he would hide away. In time, Thanos would ensure his demise also, but one hunter was hardly a worthy sacrifice to his lady. 

 

Then a mortal with a vision of ruling all of Earth had sent the hunter back with terms for the leader of the Chitauri. The earliest offer had been so insulting that Thanos had nearly ripped off the half-Kree’s head in outrage. But though his anger flared red hot, the Titan was no fool. Let the mortal think himself clever, bargaining with a being he knew nothing of. Once Thanos had what belonged to him he would strike back with swift certainty.

 

A deal had now finally been struck. Thanos would allow the mortal what Loki had been promised, Earth’s rule and independence. He and his allies believed themselves kings among men, ruling their world with an iron fist. In return, the girl would be handed over along with the sceptre. 

 

 

The Titan turned his throne to face his general. “Good. You will go to Earth to collect the sceptre. You may take the girl for yourself.” The Other licked his lips, gleeful at the prize he had been promised. The creature was beneath Thanos, but the Titan found him useful. Disgusting though he was, the beast was without equal when it came to causing pain. “Keep her or kill her as you see fit, as long as she suffers.”

 

“The universe will be yours, my lord. Ronan reports that he shall have the stone soon, and once the sceptre has been returned we can conquer Earth and through it bring down Asgard and retrieve the Tesseract.”

 

Thanos smiled. His Mistress would be pleased.

 

 

 

 

_Secret H.Y.D.R.A. Base, Midgard_

_The 3712 Year of Odin’s Rule_

_(Early 2014)_

 

 

Alexander Pierce was ready for his plans to come to fruition. H.Y.D.R.A. had steadily destabilised the world and now with the help of two alien invasions the people were ready to accept any means for safety. Project Insight was well on the way to cleansing the Earth and bringing about a new world order. Fury was one of very few left in S.H.I.E.L.D. that was not either H.Y.D.R.A. or had few enough qualms to care about the change in leadership when it came. 

 

There had been a slight hiccup. Half a year ago, the only real threat to Pierce – the so called ‘Avengers’ – were scattered and barely in contact. Each of them had their own problems and they didn’t seem to trust each other enough for the united front they had presented in New York. Only the Captain and the Widow were active S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, and Pierce had a plan for the two involving his Winter Soldier. 

 

The arrival of the goddess had changed that. The group had assembled immediately and started to ask questions, prompting Fury to look deeper into things that Pierce wasn’t ready to go public. And then he’d had an idea. The Bounty Hunter sent for the girl had told them everything about his employers, and Pierce had devised a plan. 

 

The ‘Superheroes’ were united in protecting the child and its mother. How quickly would they turn on each other if something happened to either of them? Or both. Pierce needed time to develop greater weapons to ensure Earth’s survival from outside threats, and the two would buy him some time. 

 

The King of Asgard would likely pay anything for the last child of his crazed son. Pierce would use the girl to gain access to their advanced technology. A few months with H.Y.D.R.A.’s scientists and they would be able to recreate it. And of course, Earth’s would-be conquerors were reported to desperately want the girl and the sceptre. Pierce admitted to himself that the loss of the sceptre would be a great regret, so he’d allowed Strucker to start work with it immediately. 

 

Moving forward with the plans to utilise the sceptre had been a risk – drawing more attention to it when Fury was already curious could have ended badly – but Pierce had decided the benefits far outweighed the risk. Now the Avengers were all but ready to shatter when they started to blame each other and thanks to Strucker, Pierce had two enhanced along with The Soldier to take them down if necessary.

 

All things considered, Pierce was pleased with himself, ready for the new world he would create with H.Y.D.R.A. as its leaders.

 

 

 

 

 

 

_Hlidskjálf, The Throne Room, Asgard_

_The 3712 Year of Odin’s Rule_

_(2014)_

 

 

Freyr, King of Álfheim, strode through the great double doors, head held high. As Odin Borson’s vassal-king, the god of truth was one of the most powerful beings in all the Nine Realms. Álfheim was now the third strongest realm in Yggdrasil, far from the starving world it had been a millennia ago. Freyr had lead the Ljósálfar well, helping them to flourish, but ensuring that they hid the full extent of their power lest the Allfather see them as a threat once more and reduce the land to cinders as he and his father had done years before.

 

Freyr had done everything he could for the Light Elves, just as his twin Freyja did everything she could to serve and protect their home, Vanaheim. Freyr had tried, just once, to flee Asgard with his younger sister Frigga. The Queen of Asgard had already been taught by then, though. She worshipped the tyrant she had married in desperate hope for peace for her homeland. And now she was dead. 

 

Freyr had played the part of loyal vassal-king well over the last thousand years. Just as he had played the part of loyal counsellor before that, and dearest friend before that. Freyr was the god of Truth, but that did not make him Honest. He had striven to protect as many innocent lives within the Nine Realms from the bloodlust of Asgard’s Royalty since his parents had been slaughtered doing the very same. 

 

Queen Skadi and King Njörd had died to protect the people of Vanaheim. They were heroes for standing up for what they believed in. Freyr too stood by his beliefs, but he protected in a very different way. That had all changed now.

 

“Did you think I would not come for you, Allfather?” He sneered, disgust marring his golden looks. “I have sat back and ruled in silence for long enough. I said nothing as you decimated my beloved’s world, I did not step in when you once again made war on Vanaheim, and I said nothing as you allowed you’re eldest to ravage Nornheim. But no longer. Your bloodlust has resulted in the death of my sweet sister!”

 

The Tyrant-King looked unsurprised by his outburst. Freyr paused. He was sure that Odin had had no inkling of his true loyalties. The Allfather spoke. “I knew you would come. The blame for Frigga’s death lays on the shoulders of the Dark Elves, and Prince Thor has ensured they are no more.”

 

Freyr scoffed. “And that’s the end of it? A good job all around, another race destroyed, her life means so little it is but a footnote in the history of your conquest?” The god of the sun wanted nothing more than to strike Odin dead, but he could not yet. There were guards all around, he would be slain before he even raised a weapon. Frigga deserved successful vengeance, not wild stabs that would surely fail.

 

“Will Álfheim make war upon Asgard? Would Frigga want for so many lives to be lost in her name? Recent years have proven there are greater threats we must unite against.” 

 

At the Kings words, Freyr froze. The god of Truth was not unobservant. He had known Odin-King for near three millennia. They had grown from boys barely past ‘First Blood’ to men and kings, all at each other’s sides. Freyr may have always hated Odin, but he knew him better than anyone alive. Odin would never have let threats like those slide.

 

The Vanir looked at the god sitting upon Hlidskjálf properly for the first time. The posture was different. Slouched to the side in comfortable confidence, where Odin would be ramrod straight and regal. He gripped Gungnir with possessive triumph rather than the Allfather’s easy familiarity. Now that Freyr was paying attention, he realised that even the speech pattern had been slightly off, emphasising different words.

 

“Perhaps we should discuss this further in private?” the King of Álfheim suggested. Something flashed in the ‘Allfather’s’ eyes. They narrowed speculatively.

 

“Very well.” The walk to the Kings study was tense. Freyr paced along slightly behind his ‘liege-lord’, thinking hard. Going over every story, every rumour that had flowed through the realms in the last year. There had been a subtle change in Asgard’s foreign policy. Slight enough that Freyr had not looked any further into it. The Realm Eternal had taken less of an interest in the other realms, allowing trade between themselves via the Bifrost more often than in the past. 

 

Freyr had assumed the changes down to Thor’s move to Midgard, leaving the Allfather alone in ruling where there had once been five Royals each undertaking some tasks. With a Realm so recently attacked Asgard seemed to have taken time to strengthen itself before re-establishing its might amongst the other realms. A tactic anyone would have taken, except for Odin Borson. The tyrant had famously allowed a famine to reign through Asgard during a war with Muspelheim, before going on to once again fail in a campaign in Nifleheim before returning to stop his people from starving.

 

The King bade the guards to remain outside, seating himself behind an ornate desk, and gesturing for Freyr to take a seat. Though it had been years, the sun god was familiar with this study; he had spent countless hours here as a councillor to Asgard, subtly manipulating Odin into less violent courses of action. Sometimes he succeeded. Sometimes he did not. The lives taken after those instances haunted Freyr.

 

The being that was not Odin stared hard at Freyr, as though judging him. He sighed. “I knew that you would be the only one who I could not fool. Freyr Njördson, that slippery fish.” The Vanir blinked. It was a name the Asgardian court had given him when he had served here, in response to his sometimes unorthodox methods. It was an insult, a reference to his cowardly Vanir ways. It had been rarely used in centuries. Only by one, as a term of respect to a fellow wordsmith. 

 

_It couldn’t be…_

 

 

Without so much of a twitch a green-gold light rolled across the visage of Odin Borson, revealing the trickster beneath. Loki was grinning wolfishly. He looked older than he had when Freyr had last seen him, the day the god of Truth had confronted him, publically, following Sigyn’s fleeing of Asgard. The Áesir still whispered of how the King of Álfheim had bloodied the Princes face and promised far worse one day. Beneath all that there had been an entirely different conversation happening between the two.

 

“Loki! What game are you playing now?” he asked incredulously. This was far beyond the usual plots of the god of Chaos.

 

“Hello Uncle.” Loki replied, looking pleased with himself. “The most dangerous game in all of Yggdrasil. I’m going to need your help with it.”

 

 

 

 

 

_Avengers Tower, Midgard_

_The 3712 Year of Odin’s Rule_

_(2014)_

 

 

Sigyn Freyjasdottir felt more at peace than she had in years - Perhaps centuries. She had a beautiful daughter, a loyal good-brother and the support of dear friends. The Vanir woman had grown very fond of the Avengers in the half-year she had resided in the Tower of Tony Stark and Pepper Potts. The mortals had strange customs, but Sigyn found they suited her quite well. They were all enamoured of Lyra, happy to entertain her and given the woman a few hours of peace in the endless task that was motherhood.

 

Thor was a near constant companion. Though as a young man he had had little to do with any of his nephews or niece, he now seemed to want to be part of every stage of Lyra’s growth. He still tended to the babe for half of the nights, feeding her the mortal’s clever ‘Formula’. He spent hours talking with the girl, playing on the floor with her every evening that he could.

 

Lyra herself was proving to be a very smart child. Dr. Banner had continued to track her progress. He had been shocked to find her already grasping some basic words, explaining that human babies did not manage that for another month or two at the earliest, and as Lyra seemed to be developing more slowly than a human physically it made it even more surprising. 

 

It appeared that even though Áesir and Vanir babes aged about half as fast in most cases, language was grasped sooner than humans. Sigyn explained that that was perhaps because she, Jörmungandr and Thor had both been speaking to the babe in the Allspeak as much as possible, to ensure she would develop the gift even though she was so often spoken to in the Midgardians language. This had started a long discussion on the Allspeak; causing Bruce, Tony and Jane to question Sigyn mercilessly for hours.

 

Although Jör remained solitary, only visiting the Tower every other week for a couple of days, Lyra had decided he was her favourite person. She babbled constantly in his presence, valiantly trying a ‘Yorh’ but not quite managing. She had managed to grasp ‘Mama’, Thor (‘Dor’), Clint (‘Lin’) and after a great deal of persistence from the girl, Darcy (‘Dah-suh’).

 

There had been a terrifying day some weeks previously where the babe had been futilely trying to roll over onto her back, and in desperation to grip the carpet had manged to transform on hand into a clawed paw. It had taken several hours for Sigyn and Jör to help guide the natural Seidr of the child to change the hand back. 

 

Jör had not stopped raving about it ever since, proud of his sisters natural shapeshifting abilities. Sigyn was less pleased; although she too was proud, she remembered all too well the chaos Fenrisúlfr had caused as a pup. A tiny lion cub would not be any less trouble, she was sure.

 

“We’ve got a hit!” Tony announced, barrelling into the common area. The engineer’s hair was madly spiked up in every direction. His eyes darted about in a classic caffeine overdose look. Bruce followed in his wake, looking much calmer. They had clearly been on another all-night science binge.

 

“A hit?” Thor asked, looking slightly confused. He was seated on the main sofa, half way through the first season of ‘Vikings’. Jane and Erik had dragged Darcy to Alaska a few days ago to study some bizarre readings that had been forwarded to Jane from a colleague she had met during her brief stint in Norway during the New York Invasion. The spikes were different from anything they had previously studied, but had several indicators that they were related to the Bifrost readings. 

 

Thor had wanted to travel with them, but he, Tony Bruce and Clint were being hounded by Fury to track down the sceptre. Something was obviously on the Directors mind, he had informed them only that he was dealing with the internal leak they had uncovered when Sigyn came to earth, and that Natasha, Steve and he were dealing with the situation.

 

“The Sceptre.” Bruce explained, as Tony had yet to. “We’ve managed to trace a few pulses of its signature around the area of an ex-Neo Nazi group in Sokovia. S.H.I.E.L.D records say it was abandoned when they took down the group decades ago, but it’s well shielded and there’s definitely something going on in the surrounding area.”

 

“Avengers Assemble!” Tony declared. Clint had dropped down from a vent in during Bruce’s explanation. Nobody had reacted at all during his sudden appearance, far too used to the archer appearing randomly mid-conversation. Sigyn continued absently stroking Lyra’s toes, listening to the Avengers discuss the plan of action. Her daughter was lying on her back next to the goddess as she read another of the novels Jane and Erik had pointed her towards. 

 

“My friends, I am unsure about leaving my good-sister and niece alone while we take this quest.” Thor announced. Sigyn smiled. What a change, in times past Thor would never have missed out on any adventure, no matter the reason.

 

“Brother,” she said softly. Thor turned to her, the same look of joy that he always had when she called him that. “We will be fine. The Sceptre is dangerous, you need to find it. Jör is coming the evening, I’m sure he will consent to stay a little longer while you are away. And I am not, as you believe defenceless – I did survive on the run, whilst pregnant for a year.”

 

Thor looked apologetic. “I did not mean to imply that you were. I just worry. I do not trust that the Allfather will not change his mind and summon you.”

 

“Trust me, Thor. The Allfather is no threat, for now. The hunter who came for me is in the custody of S.H.I.E.L.D., and most do not even know we are here. Go and retrieve the sceptre, and make this realm all the safer.”

 

Thor smiled, nodding. The assembled Avengers went their separate ways to prepare for their mission.

 

 


	2. The Svell Beast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki hates dwarves, Jor gets to do some avenging, Barton doesn't see stuff coming and The Hulk smashes.
> 
> Also, things go horribly wrong for basically everyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN- Chapter 2, Here we are.
> 
> You’ll notice I’m blending Age of Ultron stuff with Winter Solider stuff, due to the change in timelines from Pierce mixing things up. 
> 
> There is also some swearing in this, not sure where that came from, really. 
> 
> I promise Loki’s storyline is about to get significantly more interesting, which you can probably guess once you get to the end of this ;P
> 
> I hope you enjoy. Let me know what you think.

_Ivaldi’s Palace, Nidavellir, Svartálfheim_

_The 3712 Year of Odin’s Rule_

_(2014)_

 

 

Loki of Asgard hated dwarves. Really, truly hated them. The early trauma hadn’t helped, but contrary to what Thor always loudly joked, his aversion was not due to fear of sharp awls and decades of silence. Loki had in fact strongly disliked dwarves long before the retribution Brokkr and Eitri had taken on him. It was easier to negotiate with a bilgesnipe than a dwarf. 

 

People always got dwarves and elves mixed up. They thought elves were arrogant and tricksy, and dwarves were stupid and stubborn. Elves were clever, yes, but not the least bit arrogant. Dwarves however were both stubborn and arrogant and not at all stupid. It was a terrible combination. The King of Asgard sighed, for the fourth time in as many minutes. Freyr shot him a reprimanding look. 

 

Ivaldi continued the long spiel of complaints he had been stating for the last few hours. According to the dwarf-lord, everything from the low mining yield to the increased population was the fault of the King of Asgard. If it wasn’t for his uncle’s presence the god of chaos might have sent the dwarf to Midgard simply for the fun of it. The mortals could listen to the craftsman for a while. They’d probably be dead before he finished stating his displeasure at his greeting party.

 

“Lord Ivaldi,” Loki interrupted in Odin’s commanding tones. “Perhaps we could speak of the purpose of my visit before Ragnarök?” he asked. Freyr gave him another annoyed look, but he ignored it. Odin would not sit through this any longer either, it was a well-known fact that the gallows-god disliked long meetings as much as his eldest. Where Thor would avoid them at all costs, the King at least made an effort to hear the views of his subjects even though he ignored almost all of them. 

 

Ivaldi spluttered in indignation, but the lords gathered behind him didn’t share his outrage. For all that Ivaldi held the ruling staff, his sway in the dwarven court was dwindling. He hadn’t created any great works since Loki’s own commission centuries past. The dwarf-lords followed those who brought value to Nidavellir and master-smith was on his way out. Another century or two and someone would usurp him. 

 

Freyr stepped forward, a commiserating look on his face. “My lord, of course we are sympathetic to the difficulties of the recent climate, but it is this very thing that hastens our time here. I am most aggrieved to hear of your troubles-“

 

“King Freyr will of course hear all of remaining concerns.” His uncle was now glaring fiercely at Loki. The god of fire smirked. Let Freyr sit through that drivel if he was so sympathetic. “Lord Orik and I will discuss the terms of our military alliance. As master of war it is rather more his area than your own Lord Ivaldi. Not much use delicate jewellery, in a battle.”

 

Ivaldi looked furious, but Orik looked triumphant. The Master of war was far more sensible and a military leader of the dwarves would benefit Loki in the fight against Thanos far more than Ivaldi. No doubt it would be weeks now before there was a new lord holding the staff. 

 

“I fashioned the very spear you grasp Odin-King!” Ivaldi roared. “My craftsmanship is without compare!”

 

“Gungnir was the work of your master, Lord Ivaldi, you had little part in its craft. Your own masterpiece, Mjolnir, is indeed mighty. I hardly need remind you however, that I commissioned a full length Warhammer, and your own mistake in the forging led to its short handle. Mayhap we can agree your skills do not lie in weaponry?”

 

Ivaldi went pale. People rarely spoke of the rookie mistake Ivaldi had made with Mjolnir’s handle, but Loki could admit to at least some resentment to the dwarf for his own part in ‘the dwarf incident’. If Ivaldi hadn’t claimed that Brokkr’s own work was his own then the smith-brothers would not have taken offense and punished the god of chaos for the slight he had inadvertently made in response.

 

Leaving Freyr to deal with smoothing the master-smiths ruffled feathers, Loki strode out of the room with Lord Orik. The discussion that followed was much less frustrating, though still unnecessarily lengthy. The King disliked being away from Hlidskjálf for so long. He’d been in Nidavellir for several days now and there was an itch under his skin. 

 

Three days without watching his sweet Lyra grow felt like an age. In the last years he had almost grown used to the hollow feeling of being away from Sigyn but his young daughter grew and changed every day. Soon, he reassured himself, another day perhaps, drawing his attention back to the discussion with Orik.

 

 

 

 

 

 

_New York City, Midgard_

_The 3712 Year of Odin’s Rule_

_(2014)_

 

 

 

The New York streets turned from busy to chaotic in seconds as soon as the beast was released. Agent Carlow smiled. As an Ex-mercenary hired by S.H.I.E.L.D. on Jasper Sitwell’s recommendation, Carlow had never had the ‘necessary qualities’ for promotion. Level 5 was as high as he was likely to see, little more than a general dogsbody for the shiny glamourous agents like Barton, Romanov, Rumlow and Ward. He didn’t care. 

 

 

Carlow had always worked for the highest bidder, and his move to S.H.I.E.L.D. had been for convenience. He’d been in Pierce’s employ for years before, and would continue to be, as long as the money kept coming. Where others might have qualms about releasing such a monster into a concentrated body of civilians, but not Carlow. That’s why Pierce hired him.

 

The thing was huge, its shoulder well above the tops of most SUV’s. They’d had to knock it unconscious to get it into the moving vehicle, and woke it up just before they let it out. The sheer bulk of it had to be dragged inside with a winch. One of the lackeys, Einersson or something, fondly called it the ‘Svell Beast’. Some crazy thing they’d picked up in London after the freaky elf invasion.

 

F*cking elves. The world was weird. 

 

“Should I get him with the stinger?” another of the underlings asked. Carlow didn’t bother learning their names. Chances were Pierce would have them replaced after this anyway. Less chance of leaks that way. “He doesn’t seem that bothered yet.”

 

Carlow looked back at the beast. It was causing some damage due to its sheer size – there was a four car pile-up at the intersection already, and it had ripped a hole in the sidewalk with its massive claws. Still, the kid had the right of it. It wasn’t attacking anyone. People were freaked, but no one was fleeing in terror. Half the crazy sh*t going down in New York didn’t turn people’s heads anymore. Especially after those sheep. 

 

Carlow nodded, watching as the underling shot a high calibre round into the soft spot behind its front leg. About the only place the thing was vulnerable. The bullet had a small vial of acid encased in the centre. It shattered on impact, releasing the chemical. The beast gave a roar that shook the glass from some of the wrecked windscreens in the pile-up. The sound had seemed to reach into some primal core of every human in the vicinity and send adrenaline coursing through their systems. The intersection changed from a controlled crisis into pure carnage in under a second.

 

The beast started crashing through the lines of poorly parked cars on the far side of the crash site, thrashing wildly and sending them flying into the lower floors of the buildings below, the civilians inside them screaming shrilly, only to be cut off on impact. Carlow grinned as he saw a police car arrive, and the officer hastily radio back. The call would be going through any second. It was only half a mile from Avengers Tower. They’d be here any minute.

 

Shoving the lackeys into the back seat of the saloon car they’d brought along with the now half destroyed truck that had been ‘Svelly’s’ first victim, Carlow swung around and headed off towards the base of New York’s defenders. Sure enough, there was man sprinting out of the lobby when they arrived, pulling up a few hundred yards away and waiting for the others to arrive. The dark haired man was clearly not entirely human, half his face covered in green scales that crept up his neck and down below his collar. He as running far faster than any man could, and passed them within seconds. In less than a minute he was nearly out of Carlow’s sight. 

 

Nearly. He still saw it in the rear-view mirror when the man change form, his clothes shredding as he grew to a monolithic size, towering over the nearby buildings. A great green snake slithered on where a humanoid figure had been, mouth open in a terrifying hiss, great fangs dripping venom onto the asphalt. Utterly terrifying. 

 

Carlow was grateful he wasn’t in the group providing back up to the beast. No, he had a greater honour. Greater pay, anyway. The mercenary watched as the Quinjet came into view, heading for the landing pad at the top of the tower. Time to go. Leaving Idiot 2 to guard the car, Carlow took the slightly more intelligent one and headed into the lobby. 

 

Pretending he had every right to be in the building – spy class 101 really – he strolled over the receptionist and shot her point-blank in the head. Silencer on - hardly anyone else looked up. Excellent. 

 

“Oh god,” said Einersson, “Are you okay?”  They’d gone over this three times on the ride over and he seemed to have managed it without sounding too ridiculous. An actor, this man was not. Carlow stepped around behind the lackey who was pretending to check the mysteriously collapsed woman. A security guard started heading their way. 40 paces. About 20 seconds. Carlow plugged the USB into the computer, watching with a grin as the elevator to his left popped open. H.Y.D.R.A. tech really was the best.

 

Pierce had asked for something that could crash Stark’s AI for 15 minutes and the monkeys had delivered. Grabbing Idiot 1, Carlow said; “We’ll let you handle this,” to the guard who was still a fair distance from them. He pulled the kid behind him as he stepped into the lift, pressing the top floor button. Starks private lift was fast, they were there before the security got to the body, Carlow guessed.

 

The USB had also knocked out the door locks in the upper levels, although they were still jammed shut. The Quinjet would be landing any… second… now. With a crash, the door at the end of the corridor burst open, 20 of H.Y.D.R.A.’s best pouring through. Stark thought his tower was impenetrable, but S.H.I.E.L.D. had been hacking his systems for years, and H.Y.D.R.A. hadn’t just stopped after The Avengers became a thing. 

 

It probably helped that nobody even knew H.Y.D.R.A. was still around. Can’t defend against something you don’t know exists. That had been on spy class 101 as well. Carlow pulled on his mask, watching as the agents started kicking open doors, dropping gas canisters as they went. The corridor was soon shrouded in a thick white fog. 

 

Einersson collapsed to the ground next to him. Idiot. He’d thought this one was marginally more intelligent, but obviously not. If he was, then it was a wonder Idiot 2 could manage to breathe and talk at the same time. The gas filling the corridor had been designed by scientists working on a sample of Thor’s blood from his brief hospital stay the first time he’d come to earth. Strong enough to impair an Asgardian. 

 

Einersson was probably dead already. Carlow gave the kid a kick on the way past to vent his frustrations, before following after the others. No way was he going to let these trigger-junkies get all the credit. He’d had to sit in a car with the Idiots all morning on his way over here, he deserved a raise for this. Hearing shouts to his left, he followed the trail of general destruction into a large kitchen area.

 

The target, a 20 something looking woman, was stood in front of the breakfast bar, a long dagger held back against her forearm. She looked like she knew how to use it. The blood pooling from the body at her feet seemed testament to this. 

 

“Leave, and you might yet live.” The alien space princess said. Yes, Pierce had told him who she was. Carlow had to admit, the crazy world conqueror had got lucky with this one. Smart too, by the looks of things. She had a wet rag pressed to her nose and mouth in her other hand. 

 

“Sorry sweetheart,” Carlow told her, his voice distorted oddly by the mask. “You’re gonna have to come with us. It might not hurt as much if you co-operate, etc., etc.” he glanced behind him at the heavy set agent at the back on the room. The man was clutching a far larger weapon that the others. The mercenary grinned at the sight. 

 

She hesitated. Another agent lunged forwards, and fast as thought the girl kicked out, dropping him to his knees and slashed round, the sharp blade opening his carotid. He gurgled once before hitting the floor, face down. Nasty. She didn’t seem to care that the hem of her pale blue dress was violent wet red. Carlow sighed.

 

Grabbing the big gun from the agent to mild protests, he stepped forwards. “Honey, you see this?” he gestured with the weapon. “The prototype of this sent your boy-toy through a reinforced steel wall. We’ve had two years to make it better. That your kid behind you? Reckon she’d get hit too if I had to fire this. You wanna risk it?” the mercenary explained simply. 

 

The woman glanced back once, before lowering the blade. She nodded. “Very well, I will come quietly.” The words were spoken clearly, as though signing a pact, but Carlow didn’t trust her for a second. Stretching out a leg to nudge the agent next to him forwards, Carlow decided it was best he stayed where he was. He was the threat, after all.

 

The agent looked nervously at the pile of bodies before crossing the room, pulling out a pair of metal cuffs on his way. It happened so quick Carlow barely caught it. The girl dropped the wet rag and grabbed a chunk of her hair, swiping through it with the dagger. She cut across the back of her hand at the same time, too avoidable for it not to be purposeful. In the same move she thrust the blade forward and down, straight through the agents clavicle and into his chest. He was dead instantly. 

 

There was a flash of green at the same moment that Carlow fired, hitting the b*tch in the shoulder and sending her crashing back into the wall. The mercenary hit her once more in the calf, for good measure and slung her over his back. One of the remaining agents grabbed the kid – thankfully completely knocked out by the gas. Carlow hated screaming babies with a passion. There would be no guarantee’s it would make it back to base still breathing if it were awake. 

 

All in all, not a bad job. The Quinjet took off the moment both the targets were inside, uncaring about the ten or so agents still on the roof. Carlow tossed a grenade out before the ramp closed. Couldn’t have any loose ends lying around. The girl had obviously managed some kind of magic back here, but it didn’t seem to have done anything except look impressive, so who cared? Carlow relaxed back in his seat, thinking of the fat pay check almost certainly coming his way.

 

 

 

 

 

_Strucker’s H.Y.D.R.A. Base, Sokovia, Midgard_

_The 3712 Year of Odin’s Rule_

_Meanwhile_

 

 

 

Thor Odinson was greatly enjoying himself. The battle raging around him had blood pumping around his system, every fibre of his being hyper-aware of his surroundings. The base they were storming was well guarded, giving evidence to their conclusion that the sceptre was being kept here. They had planned to wait for the cover of night to attack, but a message from Fury had Stark insisting they get to work immediately.

 

They’re onto us. Retrieve it now. Don’t contact me.

 

Thor threw Mjolnir into the front of a military truck heading towards him. It flipped, crashing over and slamming into a tree. The Hulk gave a roar from beside him and ploughed through the line of enemies, taking out a small weapons bunker to clear a way for Barton. Stark had gone ahead to work on the shield around the base itself.

 

Without warning, something faster than the god of thunder’s own vision whipped past him, throwing the archer up and over to land sprawled on his back. Thor leapt back into the fray, covering his comrade until he was standing once more. There was a time when the prince gave little care for any of his friends in a battle, a berserker rage nearly as complete as Banner’s clouding his thoughts and fixating him on bloodlust. Enjoying the thrill of the fight was one thing, but at the detriment of your own made one a poor friend. It was but one more thing he felt shame for, but it was one more he could change. 

 

Barton hijacked one of the trucks, swinging it round to head towards the base itself. Thor leapt into the air with a swing of his hammer, listening to Stark announcing over the comm lines that he had taken down the shields. The Hulk gave another great roar in the distance, continuing to tear his way through the ground defences.

 

“I think we’ve got an enhanced Stark, so take care.” Barton was ever professional on a mission, where he would have made at least a few witty remarks in any other circumstance. The Hawk saw everything, it must have spooked him to be so taken by surprise. Thor joined Stark in the base itself, taking a separate route in with the intent to clear the rooms as quickly as possible. He was coming to the top of a set of stairs when he came across the witch.

 

Though not trained in Seidr himself, Thor could feel the waves of magic pouring of the girl. She felt barely in control of her own gifts. Raising his hammer in clear threat, the stepped forwards. “You have my word I will do you no harm if-” The witch moved swiftly to his blind spot. He felt a tendril of Seidr roll over him before she darted out the door. 

 

“The witch tried to warp my mind!” he warned the others. “Take care, I doubt a human could resist. Thankfully I am mighty…” Thor broke off. He was no longer in the base. The vision was horrifying. Sigyn was crumpled in a pool of her own blood before a great stone throne, floating in the air above the steps that she lay on. Her back was a mess of torn flesh and lash marks. The being in front of her could be none other than Thanos, the Mad Titan. Upon his hand was a great gold gauntlet, encrusted with six sparkling jewels. 

 

He gave a deep laugh of pure insanity, and clenched his fist. Yggdrasil burned around Thor.

 

 

 

 

 

_Strucker’s H.Y.D.R.A. Base, Sokovia, Midgard_

_The 3712 Year of Odin’s Rule_

_Seconds later_

 

 

 

“Thor?” Tony Stark asked. The god had broken off mid-sentence and hadn’t spoken since. “You there buddy?” he tried again. There was no answer. Well sh*t. “Assume Thor is hostile if you meet him, mind-control protocol etc. guys.”

 

“Only you and me Stark.” Barton responded. “Hulks busy tearing up another weapons bunker, I’m on my way in now. You carry on and get the sceptre, I’ll go after Thor.”

 

“Copy that.” Tony replied, continuing onwards. The secret door had been awesome, obviously, but he’d decided to put the suit back on. He wasn’t sure how much help it would be against mind control, but the familiar hum of the arc reactor was vaguely comforting. “This usually works..?” and all that. He finally lucked out, the corridor opening up into a warehouse. A huge Chitauri space-whale thing was hanging suspended about his head, which was creepy as f*ck. 

 

He stepped forward, staring at the sheer volume of alien tech in the base. This amount of stuff couldn’t possibly be here without S.H.I.E.L.D. sanction, could it? That was insane. If Fury knew about this place, then none of his behaviour of the last few months made any sense at all. If he didn’t…

 

“Pretty sure Cap and Nat are about to be in serious trouble, Legolas.” 

 

“Not the time, Stark. Not sure how good my Eastern European is but I think they’re gonna blow this place in about five minutes. The witch tried to get me but she’s down for the count now. The other guy took her.” Barton sounded pissed. Mind-control flashbacks or something probably. Tony strode forward and grabbed the sceptre in a gauntleted hand, before turning and getting the hell out.

 

“Where are you?” Tony asked. “I’ll swap you a glow-stick for a Norse god.” Barton gave him a general location and he blasted his way through to the archer. Stark passed him the sceptre which the assassin shoved hastily into his quiver, looking less than pleased with his gift. The mechanic grabbed Thor around the waist and dropped him off at the Quinjet half a mile back. 

 

“You wanna try and round up Bruce? He sort of listens to you and we ain’t got Nat.” Barton suggested. Tony followed the trail of destruction away from the base clearly left by the Hulk. It grew progressively more violent. It also lead straight towards the heavily populated city. 

 

“Barton? We’ve got a big problem.”

 

Tony tried to stay reasonably calm, but with Thor down for the count, Nat and her lullaby skills not present, and Cap with her in D.C. it was down to him and a completely vanilla human to control the rampaging green monster. “J.A.R.V.I.S.?” he asked his AI, “I’m calling in Veronica.” 

 

“Very well, sir. I must inform you that I am experiencing some odd readings from the tower, I believe the systems are malfunctioning.”

 

“Not got time for this, J. Reboot it. Can you still access the mainframe?”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

Tony focussed on finding Bruce as soon as possible, the scientist was never going to forgive himself if he hurt more innocent people. It wasn’t a difficult task. The Hulk was a roaring mass of green muscle ripping his way through a building, heedless of the screams of the civilians around him. Already there were armed police making their way to the scene and opening fire. This did nothing but p*ss him off more.

 

The fight that followed was one of the hardest the billionaire had ever had. Trying to do enough damage to knock out The Hulk was hard enough, without him trying not to damage Bruce so much he actually killed him. The Hulk was beyond even the normal levels of rage. Swatting at Tony like he was an annoyance, he seemed more interested in destroying everything in sight. If it wasn’t for Veronica, Iron Man would be little more than a flat smear on a window somewhere. 

 

When he finally managed to drop The Hulk down through a reasonably tall office block and the force of the hit seemed to knock him back to himself, the engineer dragged him into an open space and waited for him to transform back. Bruce looked like he was in shock, not saying a word as Tony guided him into the Quinjet Clint had just landed next to them. They were in the air and out of sight in seconds. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End of chapter, hope you enjoyed! 
> 
> You’ll get answers about the tower attack soon, I promise. 
> 
> Also, Sigyn is not down for the count yet, she just values Lyra’s safety above anything – rightly so.
> 
> Let me know what you thought! 
> 
> Next chapter to the prequel should be tomorrow, and this stories next chapter either the day after or the next after that :)

**Author's Note:**

> And there is chapter one! Thanks for reading, it would be great if you could leave a comment to let me know what you thought!  
> The next chapter should be up soon-ish. I’ve got slightly more going on at the minute so my updates with be slower than in TEoTO, but you should get something from this or the prequel TToLaS every few days to a week.  
> If you haven’t already, go and read the prequel, only a prologue so far but it is relevant to this story and TEoTO.  
> Thanks again, I hope you enjoyed, ChrysosArgentum. xx


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